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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992087">what can i give that is all for you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslycassandra/pseuds/obviouslycassandra'>obviouslycassandra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ace Riz RIGHTS!, Aged-Up Character(s), Future Fic, Intimacy, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Slice of Life, just a lot of morning cuddling honestly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:54:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,647</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslycassandra/pseuds/obviouslycassandra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fabian won’t question something that’s just so unequivocally good for his own concept of a perfect lazy morning. He’s content to lie here and enjoy closeness and stray touch until the sun climbs high enough in the sky that its light in the room is inescapable enough to guilt him into action. He doesn’t need anything else. </p>
<p>(or: Riz sleeps in, for once.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what can i give that is all for you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>long time listener, first time caller! this was inspired by a post by tumblr user (and fandom legend) riz-gukgak. </p>
<p>title is from arms by the paper kites.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The hand which wakes Fabian is light on his forearm and so barely there that he reasonably shouldn’t have stirred at all. He does anyway, years of sleeping one good eye open keeping him alert even though he knows, in a sleepier, calmer corner of his mind, that it’s Sunday morning and he has nowhere to be beyond his own bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks awake to find Riz curled up on his side of the bed, one arm flung out to reach towards him but otherwise so small, so obviously comfortable under the covers he hasn’t quite managed to kick off. His face half-buried in his pillow and obscured by hair long enough to fall across his forehead, past the sharp point of his nose, all the way down to his lips. There’s no way that’s comfortable, Fabian thinks distractedly as his vision zeroes in on that one piece of hair that moves with each exhale. His own hair’s been too long for too many years to be kept down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fabian contemplates brushing the hair out of Riz’s face but that would require moving, would require pulling his arm out from under Riz’s fingertips and that’s a peace he doesn’t want to disturb. It’s rare that he’s awake first, rarer still that Riz would reach out to seek touch in those mornings they get to share in their bed, rarest, perhaps that there is a morning to share at all, between their work duties and impossible schedules and the sheer virtue of how precious a quiet Sunday morning can be. So Fabian doesn’t move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a few minutes before Riz’s hand twitches again, fingers going to curl ever so slightly around Fabian’s forearm, purposeful now where the touch could have been brushed off as accidental before, by someone other than Fabian, by someone who doesn’t know just how measured and resolute each instance of touch is for Riz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mornin’,” Fabian says, and his voice is just an exhale of air tripping over the gravel of a good night’s sleep but loud enough still to bring him fully out of his state of hazy half-sleep and into an acceptance of wakefulness. Riz doesn’t answer and his eyes are still closed, and Fabian wonders if it’s a failure on his own perception’s end that he can’t figure out whether his breath has changed at all. Or perhaps, he’s just still asleep and reaching out, and all Fabian can do is let himself sink further into the mattress as seemingly every single nerve ending in his body migrates to just the four points on his forearm where Riz’s fingers have landed, the thumb pressing ever so slightly into the crook of his elbow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Riz, hey,” he whispers again, and is rewarded now with the flutter of Riz’s dark eyelashes, a pair of warm yellow eyes peering up at him under heavy eyelids. “Hey. Good morning. You okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Riz’s eyes travel slowly from Fabian’s face down to where his hand rests on Fabian’s arm. His fingers flex gingerly, just a tiny bit, as if he’s testing their autonomy before he lets his eyes fall shut again, and nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What time is it?” </span>
  <span></span><br/>

  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Early,” Fabian hasn’t looked at a clock. He can only guess from where sunlight is leaking through the blinds into the room, the elongated shape it’s cast on the ceiling. “You should sleep some more. It’s Sunday.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Riz doesn’t protest, which is surprising in and of itself, but Fabian won’t question something that’s just so unequivocally good for his own concept of a perfect lazy morning. He’s content to lie here and enjoy closeness and stray touch until the sun climbs high enough in the sky that its light in the room is inescapable enough to guilt him into action. He doesn’t need anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Riz’s hand slides down, closer to his wrist, and still so terribly light on his skin that Fabian has to close his eyes and wonder how something so minute can be just about enough to make his heart kick up in his chest like it does when Riz’s thumb lands just past his wrist, at the soft of the heel of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s that it’s rare, is all. That it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Riz</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and that it’s rare. It’s how it’s always been, he supposes, regardless of everything else he’s tried, anyone else he’s let touch him so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>technically, than Riz is okay with touching most of the time. But it’s always been this; Fabian’s come to understand it’s all about whatever Riz wants, has always been all about whatever Riz wants, rest of the world be damned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, it’s a shock which jolts him fully awake, Riz’s hand seeking his own over a faded gray bedsheet they bought together so long ago Fabian’s almost ashamed to consider how much time has passed. They should go bedsheet shopping, he thinks, right as Riz makes a soft noise into his pillow and strokes his thumb, just once, across the inside of Fabian’s wrist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Fabian breathes. He learned a long time ago to step back and let Riz direct what he wants; how much he wants to seek out and accept, what is okay for him and what crosses sharply into a field of </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Fabian never wants to breach. Riz is an adult, and knows his limits better than anyone else. Fabian just knows how to listen, which cue to take, and what to give in exchange. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today, the cue is a very small noise of affirmation as Riz’s fingers relax and his grip goes slack, and then it’s so easy for Fabian to shift and take Riz’s hand in his. Riz shudders at that, a full-body sigh as his body unfurls just a little to make the distance between them just ever so slightly smaller. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he echoes, and then he meets Fabian’s tightening his hold just a fraction with an exhale that’s almost a laugh. When Fabian opens his eyes to look at whatever expression accompanies the sound, he’s met with a half smile on Riz’s lips, and then the realization that the hairs on Riz’s arm are standing on end, as if the point of contact is electric. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fabian holds still, and Riz doesn’t pull back, so Fabian </span>
  <em>
    <span>holds. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a while before he moves again, shifting carefully closer. The bed creaks with his movement and Riz laughs again, one of those sleepy exhales Fabian knows, with an odd tinge of pride, that no one else would recognize as laughter at all. He’s close enough that Riz could probably curl into his chest if he wanted when Riz draws his hand back and breaks contact. Fabian only has a moment to regret pushing too far, has just started thinking too hard and opening his mouth with an apology on his tongue when all Riz does is roll over, one knee drawn up and his back to Fabian. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you—” Fabian starts, careful more than he is uncertain, right as Riz cuts him off, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fabian</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” and throws a hand back to reach for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fabian takes his time closing the distance between them, gives Riz time to change his mind but Riz remains quiet and still as Fabian moves close enough that his chest is pressed to Riz’s back, as he hovers a cautious arm and finally sets it down lightly over Riz’s hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Riz whispers, once Fabian is finally still again, and Fabian has to wonder if it’s for his benefit or Riz is just talking to himself. His skin is covered in gooseflesh still, his arms and — Fabian’s now close enough to see — the back of his neck; his heart thumping away hard enough that Fabian can feel it against his ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is a lot,” Fabian breathes, and watches the back of Riz’s head shift in a short nod. “You’re good?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Riz repeats, his hand coming up to close over Fabian’s at his hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The magnitude a touch so minute, in the grand scheme of things, blows Fabian’s mind. Everything has always been </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much </span>
  </em>
  <span>when it’s Riz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stills, and breathes. Riz’s restless, shivery body takes its time to relax into his touch, until the gooseflesh fades and his breath evens out enough that Fabian wonders if he’s fallen back asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun travels its morning route until it finds another crack in the blinds to shine through, casting a spotlight to the bony point of Riz’s shoulder. Fabian watches the spectacle, sunlight on skin, rendered breathless by how something so ordinary can be so important and devastating and beautiful until all he can do is lean in and press a whisper of a kiss onto Riz’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Riz hisses, his hand over Fabian’s gripping harder for a split second before he forces it into stillness again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Fabian whispers, quick, immediate, already halfway to pulling away. “Are you okay? I— you’re good?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Riz mutters Fabian’s name under his breath and then twists, squirming until he manages to turn around and face Fabian, catching his eyes in a way which somehow feels immediately insistent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” he says quietly, and he sounds so dead serious that Fabian thinks, in that exact second, that he has never loved him more. Riz smiles at him, then shifts to kiss a spot on Fabian’s cheekbone that’s only half-scar, “I promise, I’m good, this is… it’s good, right now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kisses the tip of Fabian’s nose and then draws back to settle with his face in the crook of Fabian’s neck as Fabian rests his hand right at the center of Riz’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is good,” Riz mutters. “Thank you. It’s—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think we should sleep some more?” Fabian asks, and it’s not quite a kiss when his lips just happen to get in the way of Riz’s hair as he nods his agreement. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! find me on tumbr @ obviouslycassandra also</p></blockquote></div></div>
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